


with you, with me

by asexuelf



Series: Fenrill Week 2020 [8]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Adorable Merrill (Dragon Age), Dorks in Love, F/M, Fenrill Week 2020, Fluff, Happy Fenris (Dragon Age), Mage-Templar War (Dragon Age), Marriage Proposal, Post-Dragon Age II, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Rain, Schmoop, Storms, Tevinter Imperium (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:02:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: Fenris and Merrill wait out a thunderstorm.[PROMPT: Post-Kirkwall.]
Relationships: Fenris/Merrill (Dragon Age)
Series: Fenrill Week 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890526
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	with you, with me

**Author's Note:**

> and that's all she wrote! well, all i wrote xD here's the last day of fenrill week; day 8, the prompt i chose being "post-kirkwall". this one is actually the first fic i wrote for fenrill week... i think it's just the thing to play us out, though i do wish it could be longer!
> 
> i hope you enjoy 💖

The night grows drearier by the hour.

The storm outside rages, slamming the window shutters against the beaten walls and shaking the loose door against its frame like an angry ghost demanding entrance.

 _At least the door closes,_ Fenris thinks. One of the windows is stuck from disuse, open wide and happily inviting the rain to spit across the floor.

“It’s not so bad,” Merrill assures him in her gentle, lilting voice, just in time for their meagre candlelight to be blown out. They sit in the invasive chill for a moment before she laughs anxiously. “Er, well, it will be over soon, at least.” Then, under her breath, “I hope.”

Fenris sighs deeply. It ruffles Merrill’s hair, the dark strands only visible now in the faint glow of his lyrium markings. It’s a little oily from days of travel, but still soft against his jaw.

“ _Puella,_ ” he begins, flinching at the sudden flash and crack of too-near lightning. “You are lucky to be so precious.”

He can hear her raised eyebrow. “Oh? Don’t tell me I’ve gone and made you cross somehow. I promise the rain isn’t my fault.”

He tenses, shame-faced, before pulling her closer. Touch only tender, he makes certain her red-polished toes are covered by the thick, warm blanket they share, before nuzzling his nose against the line of her throat. “I only meant… Only you could make this cold night bearable through such thoughtful optimism.”

“Oh!” And then she’s smiling at him, broad and bright even in the dark, forgiving him easily to make room for humor. “So you meant to say that _you_ are the lucky one, _vhenan._ ”

He looks down at their knees, his cheeks and ears warm. “...Yes. Thank you for trying to brighten my mood. I do appreciate it.”

“Of course, Fenris. And thank you for noticing those dark clouds in the west! If it weren’t for your eyes, I’d be having a tough time keeping spirited too. And imagine, I thought the sky was completely clear!”

“I am simply more used to Tevinter skies. I remembered the smell of a northern storm on its way. It- It was simple.”

“Hardly! You have an impressive sense of smell, Fenris.” She kisses his nose gently, her lips so soft against him that he can’t help but drop his head to make a sound he will never admit was a giggle.

“I am not wholly to thank. Had it not been for _you_ finding us this abandoned home, _amata_ , we would be well and drenched out in that storm. Or worse. The nearest inns are too from from here and too dangerous for an elvhen woman besides.”

Merrill snorts. “Even a scary blood mage?”

“Especially a scary blood mage.” He kisses her nose in return, delighting in her overjoyed ‘squee’. He bites his lip before continuing, “We’ve taken care of each other this way. We’re both to thank.”

She hums contentedly, tightening the blanket further around him to pull him closer. “So we are, and so we have. And so we shall continue to do, right, _ma vhenan_?”

He grins against her mouth as she kisses him. “Yes,” he murmurs, growing lost in the warmth of her soft lips. “For as long as you allow me to, I will take care of you. Be taken care of by you.”

“Well then, looks like forever.”

The storm shakes the thin wooden walls, spilling through the open window to soak the rug and leave the room cold. The spiders in the corners cling desperately to their webs as the wind shakes them and the mice hide beneath the furniture, shivering in fear at the strange unknown.

“Was that a proposal?” Fenris teases, feeling warmer than he has all evening. Than he has in all his life.

“Depends,” Merrill laughs. The tip of her nose fits so perfectly against his. Her forehead is cool where his presses against it. “Do you want to marry me, Fenris?”

The rain lulls, then falls harder than before. Thunder rolls through their stolen shelter.

“You mean this genuinely, _cara_? You want to marry me?”

“Well, of course; I love you.” She says it like it’s simple. Like it makes everything else simple too.

“Yes,” he says.

She’s quiet for a moment, as if listening to the rain falling. Pouring. “Fenris?”

“When we return from Tevinter, when Anders’ war is over - let’s get married.”

Her exhale wavers, shivering like the wind. “Okay. Let’s get married.”

Another crack of lightning lights the house, shining its harsh white glow over their smiling faces. The thunder rumbles later, distant. They have hours yet of storm to weather, and years of far worse in front of them as well as behind, but neither will do it alone. Not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ☂️


End file.
